


He and I

by Kay_jay88



Category: GOT7
Genre: First Dates, First Meetings, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, M/M, MARKBAM, Weddings, jae2, jinson, not saying whos, pining Mark (Got7), thats all I’m going to say, they get drunk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-27
Updated: 2019-07-02
Packaged: 2019-09-01 05:07:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16758532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kay_jay88/pseuds/Kay_jay88
Summary: His laughter was a nice change in scenery for him, it was loud and somewhat obnoxious, much like a closer friend of theirs, but not entirely unpleasant to the ears. And most of all, it was very honest. So unlike most of the guests who surrounded them. Theirs had been off-putting and too downright artificial for them to be tolerable.[rating has gone up from teens to mature]





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write some MarkBAM!! And this is the result of that.
> 
> Please enjoy!

His touch had lingered a few seconds too long when they had first met years ago at a group meet. A social-like gathering between friends and those who happened to be friends of friends. A party-not-party. Although he had been one of the older few who attended the get together, he had not taken the initiative to start conversation with anyone there. He remembers lucidly how the younger male had been all jitters and full of excitement that night when he had introduced himself to him, even discovering that they’d the same group of friends. Both had been somewhat surprised at the fact that they hadn’t met sooner seeing as they had identical connections with the same people.

“The name’s Kunpimook Bhuwakul,” He had said. “but everyone calls me BamBam.”

“Mark Tuan.” He followed after.

The younger had laughed and giggled when he elaborated on how he knew their mutually insane and abnormal friends. About their misadventures and unwelcome pestering. His laughter was a nice change in scenery for him, it was loud and somewhat obnoxious, much like a closer friend of theirs, but not entirely unpleasant to the ears. And most of all, it was very honest. So unlike most of the guests who surrounded them. Theirs had been off-putting and too downright artificial for them to be tolerable.

He recalls how the male beside him had swayed with the music playing somewhere in the background, lightly rolling his sharp hips to the beat of the rhythm. His dark jeans had been tight and his choker collared shirt left little room for imagination. He was a pretty man, slim and lengthy, with smooth looking creamy skin and pillowy pink lips. His smile was appealing too, it tilted slightly to the right and lit up his whole face. The lights had been dimmed low for the party-goers, but he could’ve sworn everything else became brighter when he did.

They spent their time reminiscing on and exchanging blackmail information they’d each obtained off their friends and had even went as far as to plot a scheme of their own. Alas, their retelling had came to an end when his company had decided that it was getting too late into the night and he should be heading back.

He remembers how his long slender fingers had slowly caressed his callused ones when their hands parted from their goodbyes. How their eyes had caught one another’s when the younger boy tried to sneak a quick glance in his direction before leaving him to stand by himself once again. The younger’s chestnut gaze had seized his attention more than he would have liked to admit that night. Although he hadn’t put much thought into it at the time and assumed he was thinking too much into it.

-

Following the weeks after their first meeting, they coincidentally found themselves in line at a café across from the college he was attending. When he entered the small shop, BamBam had been the first recognize him, he grinned and gave him the standard polite greetings. Even offering to share his place in line, which was much closer to the counter, with him. They stood there in silence by one another, neither one seemingly eager to strike a conversation with the other. It was awkward to say the least, seeing as it was 6:30 in the morning and he was only half awake. In his defence, he was never much of a conversationalist, even when he was wide awake. No, social interactions with random strangers were up their social butterfly of a friend Jackson’s alley.

He honestly really hadn’t expected to see him again after the party and had only half regretted not mentioning him to their mutual friends. Sure the chances of them meeting again would’ve been high if he hung out with them more often, but that was far and in between. As a college student, he hardly ever had free time for anything either than work and school, it was a miracle that he was even able to turn up at the party they had met at. Majoring in graphic engineering as well as design defiantly had him relentlessly overworking himself. He had a project due on architectural space and three-dimensional planning that day, which had been the main reason he was at the college so early in the morning. His first lesson wouldn’t start until 7, so he had an hour to tweak and fidget with his documents before then. He also blueprints that had yet to be uploaded to his file and the design program he downloaded into his laptop would not corroborate with him no matter how much he tried. He emailed his saved files to himself the night before so that upload them onto his project with hope that it wouldn’t be too much of a hassle to deal with when he gets to class.

Don’t get him wrong, he thoroughly enjoyed his studies and the learning materials he would endlessly fret over. It was his passion and it wasn’t like he wasn’t expecting the pathway to his career to be easy. He’d always known he’d face some hardship along the way. Although he could do without the consistent all-nighters and inevitable dark circles under his eyes every now and then.

There was still an uneasiness in the air when they both gotten to the till and ordered their drinks. He had paid for both of theirs before BamBam could pay for his own.

“Think of it as a thanks for letting me cut in line with you.” He said, gracing him with one of his smaller smiles.

He nodded his head in a small thanks as he quietly snatched his coffee from the counter, despite the light frown set between his brows. He had ordered a tall dark coffee with one sugar and sipped it like a pro. How he could drink it like that was beyond his comprehension. He himself preferred a sweeter alternative to the younger’s, instead he opted to order a grande cookies n’ cream, topped with whipped cream and drizzled in caramel. Call him a sweet tooth but caffeinated drinks with “guaranteed to give you diabetes” practically labeled all over it were the only thing that kept him functioning during his hours on ending classes.

When he asked him if he actually enjoyed the taste of the bitter drink, he chuckled softly and shook his head.

“He’ll no. This stuff tastes like shit.” He answered, visibly amused by his reaction as his face contorted in dumbfounded confusion. “Just something to keep me up, ya’ know?”

He had gave a silent “oh,” as a reply. His phone alarm buzzed in his pocket, notifying him that he should be heading out to the campus real soon.

“I should get going.” He told him, plucking his phone out to turn his alarm off. “I’ve got a project due in the next half hour.”

It had been BamBam’s turn to let out a soft “oh,” sounding a bit disappointed. At least, he thought he did.

“Here,” he said, handing his smartphone to him. “Give me your number and we could, I don’t know, maybe meet up sometime? When we both have the time, of course.”

He gave him a brighter smile than the one he had first received when he entered the café, taking his phone in his own hands and quickly typed out his information.

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

Mark had walked out of the café with renewed energy and a light skip to his normally sluggish steps.

-

The next time they met one another was very much planned and had been quite fun too. They’d exchanged a few text and more than a few calls since the time they seen each other at the café. Taking their time to get to know the each other and their unique quirks and godawful texting habits. To which he had realized a little too late that BamBam had an dreadful obsession for sentences that consist of long ass emojis and gifs with a few well placed memes here and there. To say that his smartphone didn’t have an aneurism everytime Bambam texted him would have been the understatement of the century.

He had waited at the front of the arcade they’d both agreed on the night before. It would be the first time they’ve actually talked face to face in a while, and he could feel his own anxiousness and excitement buildup in his chest, ready to explode at any moment BamBam would walk in. The sweat he started accumulating in the well air conditioned building made him wonder why he was so nervous. Maybe it was the fact that he rarely ever made friends with people outside his own and the thought of making a new one was setting him on edge. Or maybe it was because he was waiting on a very attractive younger man, whom also happens to be funny and charismatic.

BamBam, admittedly, was exactly the type of person he’d readily go for if he had been a girl, considering he was sure as hell was pretty enough to pass as one. Of course he never really cared about the gender of possible romantic partners, it just hadn’t ever occurred to him that he’d be interested in another guy, he always assumed he liked the opposite sex. But in recent discovery, BamBam had proved his assumptions wrong in the short time he’s known him by turning his confused ass upside down.

A soft greeting was heard on his right side, prompting him to turn towards the voice, already knowing who to expect to be the owner.

“Hi.”

“Sorry I’m late, the bus took longer than expected.” He explained to him when he was in front of him, reaching inside one of the pockets of his messenger bag to pull out a water bottle. He took a sip from it. “Did you wait long?”

He might have accidentally stared too openly at him drinking because he suddenly felt a bit too hot at that moment. “Nah,” he said after clearing his throat. “I got here five minutes ago. So, it wasn’t too long of a wait.”

“Ah, okay.” He sighed after taking another swing of his water. “Let’s have some fun then.” He grabbed his hand and lead him farther into the arcade.

The first machine BamBam excitingly brought them to was a dance game, the ones with printed arrows that lit up in the mats that were placed on the ground. He had wanted to go a few rounds with f songs before moving onto the more popular machines in the arcade, telling him how it’s been since he’s played. Unsurprisingly, he still kicked his ass each round, his apparent out of practice movements were quick and smooth and so refined, it didn’t take him long to admit defeat to the slightly taller male.

“You know it’s unfair of you to say you’ve gotten rusty when you’re a dance student in DAFA.” He wheezed after giving up halfway through their sixth song. His partner was still going strong, opting to finish the rest of the challenge without him.

“Choreographing your own dance is completely different from following someone else’s.” The younger breathed out, most likely short on breath himself. “Plus these games are always repetitive with its steps.”

He let out a laugh then as he shakily wiped the waterfall of sweat off his forehead. His legs trembled from being over worked and his abdomen ached when he breathed, but he couldn’t find himself to feel tired or drained. Instead, he was pumped with energy. Any nerves he had built up earlier gone the instant the started playing, replaced by the merriment that BamBam brought on.

“I can see that.”

They left the machine soon after, BamBam, who had beaten the highest score by a long run, walked away with pride. He suggested a post-apocalyptic shooting game next, guaranteeing that it was within his specialty and not so hidden talent, unlike dancing. As it turned out, his rival in arms was squeamish when it came to the sight of guts and blood. Turning chalk pale when faced with the two-dimensional undead, unable to bare the scene of rotting flesh. He, of course, took this as a chance to tease the young man for his weak heart. Enjoying his theatrical looks of betrayal and loud whines of denial.

All in all, their first real hangout had been a success. Leaving him wishing that they had more time on their hands


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A pregnant silence hung in the air as he fixed a steady gaze at the brunet, expecting some kind of reply back. What reaction was he hoping to see? Honestly, even he couldn’t answer that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I lied and said that this’ll be a two part story. Sorry guys, my extra ass decided to add more plot than I intended to.
> 
> Aaaaand...I’ve been procrastinating a lot. 
> 
> (I can literally hear “stop procrastinating, mate.” every time I work up the energy to actually haul my ass up to attempt to finish my chapters.)
> 
> Anyways, enjoy!

“I can’t believe Jackson actually convinced you to sneak into _three_ different bars at sixteen,” the younger male giggled, bordering on a breathless laugh. “ _On the same night!_ And then got you kicked out for being flat ass wasted!”

“What can I say?” He smiled, enjoying his friends amusement to the retelling of _“The Misfortunate Adventures of Mark Tuan: Jackson Wang Addition.”_

“Almost no teen in their right mind would turn down the chance to get their hands on some booze and a good time.”

Within the weeks that followed after their first and several other meetups, he’d find himself gravitating more and more into BamBam’s orbit. His awareness of him and his actions whenever they were together made his skin feel tight and heated, causing his stomach to do flips. His gaze would often linger down towards his pink pillowy lips, or easily find itself lost into the younger’s starry chestnut orbs.

He felt like he was free falling into the endless abyss that was the younger man, and he didn’t know how to stop.

“That’s true.” BamBam said as he threw his head back and let out another hearty laugh. “ _I_ definitely didn’t.”

It was just the two of them basking in a late lazy afternoon after both of their classes had coincidentally been cancelled for one reason or another. They sat in the corner of the small café across from his college campus where they had first exchanged contacts, side by side while their caffeinated drinks turn warm and clumpy. He was pretty sure BamBam could be heard throughout the small lounging area as he made no effort to lower the volume of his exclamations and excitement in their chosen topic of conversation. A few stray college students occupied a seat or two around them, absorbed in a group project or whatever else it was their professor had assigned to them. Had he been in their shoes, a familiar feeling of mild irritation would have probably already have started to bubble in his chest at the loudness coming from whomever was the source of it. Fortunately for him, he wasn’t and he couldn’t find it in him to care for the volume of his seat mate’s voice or the annoyed glances they would receive from time to time from fellow café-goers and employees alike. He didn’t mind the attention, so long as he had BamBam’s.

“Why don’t we go for a couple rounds then?” He asked, bumping one of his seat mates’ knee from under the table. “Make some memories for ourselves.”

The younger man gives him a pout as he rubs the area of impact, throwing him the bird while he was at it. “This early? It’s like, what? _Three-forty_ , now?” He squints his eyes towards the smallest of clocks that hung on the wall across from them, while reaching over the wooden table for his warmed coffee. “We haven’t even finished our coffees yet.” He takes a swing of his bitter drink, cringing when the lukewarm coffee reaches his taste palette. He sticks out his tongue, imitating a hurling motion to emphasize his dislike of the current state of his beverage.

He shrugs, mimicking his friends actions to reach for his own clumpy cup of coffee. “Later tonight then, if now’s too early for you.” He suggests, a light chuckle slipping through his lips as he said it. Because really, look at how adorable BamBam is. _How can you not smile with this kid around?_

A small _“hmph”_ was let out as said _“kid”_ pretends to think to himself for a moment, daintily fiddling with his coffees paper cup. He pouts his bottom lip out and holds Mark’s gaze momentarily, playfully wiggling his finely plucked brows at him. “Okay, why not.” The younger brunet finally says, swinging his drink back and finishes it in one go.

-

Mark swung back his eighth shot, enjoying the slow burn of alcohol at the back of his throat before slamming his glass down. A heavy gasp leaves his lips as he leans back from the bars counter to give his drinking partner a lazy grin, leaving the younger in a fit of giggles. The fairly cute bartender from behind the bar shakes his head at them, coming forward to wipe up the remains of the mans shot.

“Be careful there, those aren’t indestructible glasses you’ve got there.” The bartender, Youngjae, warns, already pouring another glass for the both of them. “I’ll make sure it’ll come out of your tabs if I see even a crack on the glass.”

If it wasn’t for the alcohol flowing through his veins or the teasing smile Youngjae was giving, he would’ve taken him seriously and apologize for almost shattering his shot glass but the fiery poison seemed to have gotten to his head already. Before he knew it, laughter fills his chest as he reaches out for another glass.

The bar and dance floor were uncommonly packed tonight, overflowing with upbeat music and a majority of impaired college students out looking for a good time. Now, he, as one of the many who would frequent this bar in particular, know that days like today should’ve been a slow day for the business.

“Here. Drink.” He says to his partner, placing the glass in BamBam’s long soft hands. A bit of the amber liquid sloshes out of the edge of the rim as he does, painting the counter once again. _“Oops.”_

He throws Youngjae a cheeky smile, receiving an eye roll in response as the young bartender leans over to wipe away the spill. He isn’t quite sure how the other man wasn’t already chewing his head off for all the mess he’s been making since arriving here with BamBam, clinking shots together and knocking over glasses. He’s not complaining though, _a friendly bartender is a kind bartender._

A new man from behind Youngjae taps his shoulder, motioning his head to what he assumes is the back room of the bar. The stranger looks oddly familiar, although he couldn’t really place why he did. The haziness in his head did nothing to help his mind as it draws blanks on where he had seen the vaguely recognizable face before. Youngjae waves goodbye and advises them to grab a taxi home before disappearing with the mysterious man.

_Weird, he could’ve sworn he’s seen him somewhere before._

“How many’s that now?” BamBam slurs, drawing his attention away from their missing bartender, setting the shot down to flick off a bit of the drink that gotten onto his fingers. He almost tips himself over in the process, legs frantically kicking the bottom of his chair for balance. “I don’t dink I can go much longer. Can’t hold m’ alcohol fo de life o’ me.”

Another fit of laughter escapes from him as the younger man tries, and fails, to steady himself. & _ldquo;Well shit,”_ he says gasping for air. “What the kind of English is that?”

<em€“Shudaph.” He grabs at the shot he left on the bar and lifted it to his lips. “I’m drunk and this’ll probably be my last one.” He swings the drink back. “I don’t want to over do it.”

“Nah, you’ll be fine.” He assures, reaching for a bottle Youngjae left behind for them and pours more for the both of them. “Help me finish this off, or are you chickenin’ out on me?” He gently nudges the shot closer to the young man, knowing BamBam could never resist provocations.

And sure enough, the Thai man, never one to back down on a challenge, takes his bait.

“Oh screw you.”

They drown the bottle in less than half a minute.

-

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” He breathes, shoving his way through a sea of sweaty and warm bodies on the dance floor, attempting to drag along a very drunk BamBam across the bar. People from all sides came together, bouncing and shaking to the beat of some heated pop song that was currently playing. Honestly, he deserves an award for his struggles, simultaneously trying to carry his deadweight of a friend and his own equally drunk ass out of the crowded building was no easy feat. “I’ve learnt my lesson, we’re only ever gonna drink at your place or mine.”

The younger lets out a low groan, seemingly pushing himself onto him some more for support. He wasn’t too sure if the sound he made was one of agreement or pain, so he decided on both. “Yeah, I know. Horrible idea. Maybe we’ll just watch a movie or go bowling next time.”

He grunts in response, his head rolling in an alarmingly awkward way around his shoulders. He worries for the condition his younger friend is in, and maybe, ever so slightly, that his head would come rolling off his delicate neck if he shouldered through the crowd too quickly.

“The hell I go through for you.” He says, shaking his head. Which was a bad idea that made his head spin in circles. “Lets get out of here.”

-

_“Come on.”_ The tall brunet purrs, grinding his clothed groin in slow circles against his own. He doesn’t think the younger realizes who exactly he’s rubbing against, too drunk to match a face and name to him. _“Ah,”_ He moans softly as he presses himself harder into him, chasing the pleasure of their friction. “Lets have some fun, get a lil’crazy.”

He really shouldn’t. _Friends don’t sleep with friends,_ at least not in their friendship. He knows he shouldn’t, but the alcohol in his brain tells him otherwise. He really isn’t in the right mind to make these kinds of decisions.

< _p >“Okay.”_

So, his blames it on several amber coloured shots as his lips finally meets BamBam’s, losing a battle that he never had a chance of winning from the start. His feeling of guilt and shame melting away in their kiss. Because as of right now, they weren’t strangers or friends, they were two people poisoned in lust and alcohol. Everything blurred when it came to him, drunk or not. All of his thoughts were consumed by BamBam and the way their bodies moved together.

;Fuck me.”

And so, he did.

-

He lets out a painful groan as he lazily blinks away the sleep from his eyes. The curtains of the window by his bed were opened slightly, letting the late morning sun shine through the windowpane.

_Who the hell left that open?_

His head pounded like a drum and it hurt like a bitch. What had happened last night? He buried himself further into his bed, wrapping his blanket around his body until he resembled a burrito. _Maybe he’ll call Jackson later and ask him to drop off some food for the damned hangover._

Still, something felt off, like he’d forgotten some kind of important thing from the previous night…

Who knows, he’ll figure it out later when his skull doesn’t feel like someone was hammering a nail into it.

-

Mark anxiously eyes the apartment door, his dark locks tickling the sides of his eyes as bundles of nerves twists and turns around in his stomach.

“That night was a mistake.” The younger says, chestnut eyes veined, swollen, and sunken, as if he hadn’t slept in days. Which, he probably hadn’t. He knew he hadn’t since that night. BamBam’s fingernails tapped at his marble kitchen counter as he stared at the wall over his shoulder, unable to meet his deep gaze.

He had barged into his apartment after being fed up with the fact that the taller man had been avoiding him for the _past three days,_ after waking up beside him in bed. When the memories of the night had finally resurfaced, he’d called thousands of times, only to get BamBam’s voicemail. The hours of not knowing what to do or how to broach the topic had been frustrating as hell, he felt like crying or screaming, hating the space and awkwardness that settled between them.

They sat rigid in BamBam’s small kitchen, the air between them tense and suffocating. Conversations had never been like this before, but then again, they never had been in _bed, intimately,_ until now.

What happened that night shouldn’t have happened, at least not in the way Mark wanted it to. They were _friends._ Of course waking up next to each other naked without any prior consent would put a strain on their friendship, because that’s what they are, _friends_.

He studies him for a bit, taking in every detail and inch of him before lingering onto BamBam’s unnaturally chapped lips. It was rare to see them in such a state, he’s always kept them soft and supple. Unlike now, they seemed gnawed and unusually raw. His outward appearance only made him look even more worse for wear, to say the least. An over large t-shirt was thrown over his skinny body with a pair of sweats that he would readjust every so often. It was heart-rending to see him like this, the fashionista he knew would never approve of the awful state he was in. One sight of this BamBam would send the one he knew in a frantic frenzy.

Mark feels the heat fill his body and crawl underneath his skin as he lets BamBam’s words sink in. “ _For who?_ You or me?” He questions, pushing himself off the stool to lean into the younger’s personal bubble. “ _Look at me BamBam.”_

A mistake? Had he hated the thought of them together that much?

The younger brunet shifts to his right slightly as he grips himself tightly, clenching at the short sleeves of his shirt. “We were drunk Mark, what more can I say?” His lashes fluttering as he tries to blink the stray tears that threaten to fall, away. Still incapable of meeting his friends own misty ones.

“ _;What more can you say?’_ Is that all you can say?” He breathes, warm droplets staining his pale cheeks as he seethes. “ _;That this was a mistake?’_ ;s next? I should forget it ever happened?”

BamBam finally catches his watery gaze, wide eyed and surprised. “I never said that.”

_;You didn’t have to.”_ He spat, using the sleeves of his sweater to wipe away his tears, attempting to smooth his aggravation with deep breaths. “Even if I tried, wanted to, shutout the memory, it still wouldn’t change the fact that it _happened._ ;

“‘Wanted to?’”

“Yes, wanted to. I don’t want to forget about it BamBam, there’s no chance in the world I would want to. I wouldn’t be standing here if I did.” His voice quivered, his throat hoarse from holding his frustration and tears back for too long. His hands and knees trembled as a sudden cool numbness swam through him.

A pregnant silence hung in the air as he fixed a steady gaze at the brunet, expecting some kind of reply back. What reaction was he hoping to see? Honestly, even he couldn’t answer that. He soon realizes they weren’t going to get anywhere close to fixing their problem if either of them continued to hesitate and withhold what they really were thinking. It didn’t help that BamBam seemed to be beating around the bush. It was obvious the he had to be the upfront one between the two of them.

He reaches out a hand to lightly grip the younger’s clenched ones from across the marble island, pulling them away from their tight grasp on his shirt. His thumb massages feather-like circles against his knuckles, as if he could, in some way, knead the tension away from the limb.

_;I like you.”_ He shakily professes, letting all the honesty and sincerity of his true affection seep into his words. He glides his thumb over the joints of BamBam’s soft hands to calm himself down before he continues. “I’ve liked you for a long time now, and can’t even say when I started to. Actually, that’s a lie. You’ve been unforgettable since the beginning, since the time we met till this very moment, you’ve been the only person I can’t get out of my head. I can’t seem to get you out of mind, because for so many reasons, you’re always the first thing I think of and the last. “I like you so much it _hurts_ to even think about how much I do. Every time I look at you, it’s like everything else blends together and disappears, leaving nothing but you. You’re so magnetic, I gravitate around you. I feel so strongly for you that I find myself contemplating whether these feelings run _deeper than just liking you._ ; He knows BamBam can probably feel his tremors through their connected hands, showcasing the anxiety that slowly starts to suffocate him. Nonetheless, he pushes through it, determined to finish what he started.

“And before you tell me I’m not gay, I need you to know that for the longest time I never considered being with the opposite sex because it just _never occurred_ to me that I might be interested. But then I met you, and _you changed everything._ Things I’ve never stop to notice or give a second thought over suddenly became so prominent, so vivid to me that being obvious to them just wasn’t a option anymore. Stuff like how I look, what I’m wearing, paying attention to another persons ticks and habits; things that never mattered to me became such an important part of my life because they involve _you._ It’s only ever been about you. The only thing that didn’t change was the fact that no matter how many people that surrounded us would try to catch my eye, they would immediately be _outshined by you._ Because to me, you are the most stunning, kindest, and talented person in my eyes. Out of everyone, everything, _you mean the most to me._

“I don’t expect anything from you, and I won’t try to force you into anything you don’t want; but I also don’t want to to think you have to reciprocate my feelings. I would never put you through that.” He breathes, facing anywhere but him by the end of his confession. His heart pounded against its cage in an attempt to break loose to run and hide; away from whatever response that awaited his wholehearted proclamation of love. “I’ll understand if you don’t feel the same way.”

Suddenly, waterfalls of tears rained down from BamBam’s beautiful chestnut orbs and right before his eyes, he began to sob. He was still stunning, nonetheless, no matter how tired and drained he appeared to be, nothing could ever take away the beauty that was BamBam. To him, at least. He watched tensely as the younger of the two of them cry, unsure of what he could do to stop his tears.

“Hey, hey, hey. Don’t cry.” He coos, rushing himself around the kitchen island that separated him from his weeping friend. He quietly gathers him in his arms, resting his chin on the others boney shoulder. “Why are you crying? I should the one crying, what with my seemingly one sided feelings.” He jokes, his chest tightening painfully as he did. He feels the rumbles and quakes of his body as he continues to sobbing, so he decides to hold BamBam until he can collect his bearings and pulls him closer.

Seconds felt like minutes as they ticked away at the clock that hung on the wall, dragging on before BamBam is finally able to speak. “I haven’t rejected your ass yet for your feelings to be one sided.” He nasally croaks, pressing his cheek against the side of his head. “Let me speak for myself instead of just automatically _assuming how I feel_ , like you already know how I’ll respond.” He felt the taller man slither his long fingers through his short locks, idly unknotting each strand as he massages his scalp with the gentlest of touches. “I like you too. And I can’t give you this huge detailed love confession, but yes, I’ve liked you for a long time too. You’re the only person to have ever seen the real me, the only one who’s opened my book and _read through every single page without an ounce of judgement or criticism._ You’ve accepted me, someone who I thought you’d never bat an eyelash for, from the very beginning. _Every. Single. Flaw._ And that part of you scares me. Everything about you scares me in a way that makes me want to run and hide myself away, because you are the only one who’s ever made my feel this way. To see me this way.” He laughs, filling the air with a gentle warmness. The sound of his tittering lifts up his spirit, noting how much better, livelier, it sounds than when their conversations first started. It resonated and calmed him, soothing the uneasiness that painted his entire being. “So yes, I like you. Might even go beyond just liking you too.”

Before he knew it, BamBam’s chapped lips met his and everything around them seemed to finally fit together. He melted into the kiss, every problem, every inch of pain faded away into oblivion. Everything was just right. Like all the missing pieces of his life finally came together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to be clear, I write my stories in parts. So, I don’t just write from the beginning to end; I jump around a lot from different parts of the plot. What I’m trying to get at is that: part 3 probs won’t be posted until a later date. 
> 
> Sorry :/
> 
> Comments and feedback are much appreciated! I wanna know your guy’s thoughts! :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If anybody ever asks, Mark definitely did not cry at the wedding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I’m finished and this is unedited. I’ll probably go through this chapter when I’m not sleep deprived and feeling like a lazy bitch.
> 
> I really to get myself a reviser....
> 
> Also, if you haven’t noticed: the rating has gone up. If you don’t want to read anything mature, just scroll till you see the first dash (i.e: -)
> 
> Anyways happy Canada day everyone and enjoy, my readers!

He trails gentle kisses along his lovers collar, nipping at the unbelievably smooth skin underneath soft fabric of his shirt. The bathroom was silent, save for their heated breaths and the way the soles of their shoes squeaked against the tiled floor. An echo makes it way throughout the small public room as he presses BamBam into one of the cool metal stalls, his hands creeping their way up the brunets body. Curious fingers leisurely follow the soft line of his boyfriends back, etching every curve and crevice to memory.

A soft mewl slips from the younger’s lips as he trembles at his touch, sending tingles through his spine.

They really shouldn’t be doing this in the open; rutting each other like a pair of animals in heat. It confuses him how BamBam managed to wrap, twist and twirl him around to his beck and call with only a glance, nullifying his sense of self without blinking an eye. Don’t get him wrong, the Thai man is everything he could ask for and more; in fact, he wouldn’t have it any other way. Not to mention that he’d be a fool to miss a chance to run his hands over his boyfriends soft lithe and willowy body. But, unfortunately, time was of the essence.

“We should really get going.” He reluctantly whispers, turning his attention away from BamBam’s abused collar to lightly peck kisses on his lips. Honestly, he could never get enough of how velvety and soft they felt on his, or the how they caress one another in the most exciting and sensuous of ways. “Someone’s gonna walk in on us, like last time.”

BamBam lets out an amused chuckle at the un-comical memory of the last time they attempted to bone each other outside of one another’s bedroom.

It was a disaster to say the least. He had at no time ever imagined having a complete stranger walk-in on him with a dick in his mouth. At his college, at that. He’s certain that he’d never live down the embarrassment and shame of that day. Honest to god, he thanked any and every divine being up in the heavens that it wasn’t anyone he shared any of his classes with.

“Oh shush, babe.” The brunet giggles, his long fingers untangle themselves from his dark locks to suggestively trail down his chest, all the way down to the button of his jeans. He fiddled with it. Flicking and pulling at it, as if it he could coerce it into coming off on its own. “It wasn’t that bad. Just a little bit more…exciting than what we’re, well you, are used to. It’s kind of like, you know, spicing it up a bit. A bit more flavour.”

Mark scoffs at his boyfriends words, absolutely turned off at thought of being caught again. Well, as turned off as he could be at the moment.

“What? I’m not flavourful enough for you, now?” He questions mockingly, as he lightly bites and nibbles on the taller man’s lower lip as punishment. He pinched one of his nipples through his shirt for good measure, because, why the hell not?

“Ouch.”

He brushes a thumb against BamBam’s swollen lip, sending a silent apology. “You deserved it.”

“You know what I meant, babe.”

“Yeah, well, there’s no way I can survive having another person bare witness to me slobbering all over your dick.”

The brunet snickers, as if he was trying to blind him with his dazzling smile. Why did god have to make him so beautiful?

“Oh please, don’t pretend like you don’t get off on sucking me dry.”

He doesn’t deny it, nor does he confirm it.

At some point in time, Mark’s button lost his hands attention. Instead, they massaged their way to the front his hardening member that, alas, started to uncomfortably strain against the fabric of his jeans. BamBam, obviously enjoying his reaction, light fondles and grinds the palm of his hands onto him, enticing a muffled groan out of him.

“Ah, fuck.”

“You like that?” He asks as nimble fingers unbutton the front of his jeans and gently tugs on the elastic of his boxers. “Feel good? Wanna use my mouth like a pussy?”

Hell yes.

Before the words could leave his lips, his jeans and boxer are pulled down within seconds, exposing him to the cool air conditioned bathroom. He shivers.

“You’d like that wouldn’t you?” He continues, taking ahold of his pulsing dick as he drops to his knees. “Well guess what? I’d love that.”

He shakes his head, still conscious enough of lustful mind to remind himself why they were here to begin with. “Babe, we can’t. They’re waiting for us outside.”

Because really, they should. He could already imagine an enormously ticked off small Chinese man and his terrifying ‘demon with an angels’ face fiancé, who’s most likely planning a ridiculously outrageous and detailed way to murder them both without leaving a single trace of evidence that could lead their untimely demise back to him.

He was going to be fucked either way, both literally and metaphorically.

Shit. There was really no way out of this.

“Who fucking cares, let them wait. Taking care of junior here is way more important.”

“Ba-”

BamBam flicks his soft tongue out at his tip, giving himself a quick taste of his cock before licking and swirling it around his pink head. His hands speed across his hardened flesh mercilessly, twisting and rubbing at him to his pleasure. Mark bites back a moan and curls his fingers through boyfriend’s dark locks as he slowly makes his descend down his dick. He shutters when his head pushes through the tight entrance of BamBam’s throat as it welcomes him in with a swallow, clenching it’s walls around him. His eyes shut at the sudden tightness around his dick, unable to stop himself from pressing his head further into the warmth of his boyfriend’s esophagus.

Said boyfriend hums in response, his hands trailing up and down Mark’s bare thighs to scrape his blunt nails across his pale flesh. The action goes straight down his spine as BamBam works his tongue around the underside of his cock, teasing a particularly sensitive spot.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He hoarsely groans into the empty washroom, his voice echoing against the white stained walls. His fingers tighten their grip in the younger’s soft locks and unforgivingly thrusts himself all the way into his mouth.

BamBam’s moans mingle with his as the younger proceeds to rut himself against the bathroom floor, garbling in pleasure with a dick in his mouth. He shudders when his crotch rolls over Mark’s shoed foot, sending a light spasm through his body as he continued to rub himself against him.

“God,” Mark whispers, his thighs twitching from underneath BamBam’s warm hands. “You’re really into this, aren’t you?”

His boyfriend clenches his throat in response.

“Fuck, you’re such a slut.”

Now, Mark has always considered himself a gentle lover, prioritizing his partners satisfaction above his own. Which would sometimes led to a boring and colourless sex life with past lovers, never had he considered demeaning them as a form of pleasure. It seemed like a faraway stereotype in movies and, well, porn. And then came BamBam, who turned all his vanilla and tastelessness into a sinful heaven. The younger was a jack of all trades when it came to making all their sexual desires a reality.

All the kinky and nasty things you can think of? Name it and he’s done it at least once.

Sex with him was a deadly sin that he could never stop himself from committing.

Which is why he hardly feels any guilt when he plunges in and out of his salivating entrance, digging his stubbed fingertips into his scalp. He knows he likes it this way, quick and rough.

He was closing in onto his limit, jerking the head of cock in short, shallow thrusts against the walls of his throat. He was close too if the tremors and frantic rolling of his crotch against his foot was anything to go by.

Oh god was he close.

Just a little more-

And then the stall door fell open, leaving three shocked faces gazing at each other.

“Well, this is awkward.” Youngjae, their bartender turned friend, laughs.

-

He can barely stand to look Youngjae in the face as all seven of them sat together, Jackson furiously fuming at the corner of their booth while his boyfriend sat by his side with a tight smile. They were so dead, he knew they were and it was all his horny boyfriend’s fault. The embarrassment of being caught yet again was all too fresh in his mind as the image of shock and amusement twinkled in Youngjae’s chocolate eyes burned into his memory. Who’s still sitting there with the same exact fucking look in his eye.

He’s never going to let them live this down and he hates him for it.

And the fucking shame that seeps through his skin.

The agonizing shame of it all.

Jackson is first to speak up when they were all finally seated, arms crossed and lips puckered. “The fuck were you guys at?”

He’s stays silent, beads of cold sweat forming along his temple. He really hopes neither BamBam or Youngjae decides to speak on their behalf, a guaranteed way to end up six feet under if they did. He nervously picks at the small chips and cracks on the edge of their booth, pealing at that paint that’s withered away with time. He needed a good excuse and fast, before-

“Getting it on in the bathroom before someone so rudely interrupted.” BamBam responds without hesitation, glaring at Youngjae with sourest of faces from across the table. And now, he’s praying for a hole to somehow magically appear underneath him and swallow him whole. Whisk him away from this situation.

And of course, god had other plans.

The Chinese man squawks at his bluntness, his face twisting into a look of surprise and disgust. Dark almond eyes practically popping out of its sockets while his mouth gaped open and shut. His usually stoic-faced boyfriend looks utterly appalled as he grasps Jackson’s arm to stop him from standing up from his seat.

Yugyeom, who was somehow everyone’s friend, squeaks from his spot on the other side of the table. Scandalized.

Great.

“Seriously? Have you no shame?” He sighs, voicing their thoughts as he threw his hands over his head. God, please don’t let him say what he think he’s going to say!

BamBam, his pain in the ass boyfriend, scoffs, looking him dead in the eye. “Oh please, babe. Cut the bull crap, don’t act like you weren’t on board with it.” He’s enjoying this, watching him burn in embarrassment in front of their friends. “It takes two to tango, Mark.”

He fits himself into the back of his seat, attempting to disappear behind Yugyeom and his boyfriend, cheeks on fire. A hand playfully smooths it’s way over his thigh, pausing once or twice to pick at dried out paint that managed to fall onto his jeans from their table. He didn’t have to look to know who’s hands were groping him.

What an asshole.

The Thai man giggles when he slaps his hand away, somehow finding his humiliated state humorous. An asshole indeed.

His little asshole, though.

Youngjae lets out an unrestrained chuckle, his eyes swimming in mischief. He knows this won’t end well for him, not when the young otter’s chocolate orbs lit up like that. Youngjae is no friend. No, he was going to watch him crash and burn in delight, feeding off his distress. Cheeky bastard.

A sly, well knowing smile making its way across his lips. “Oh, he was definitely on board with it.”

Jaebum, Youngjae’s older and intimidating boyfriend (who also happens to be Jinyoung’s best friend. What a small world they live in, heh.), glances at him in confusion. He’s thankful that he doesn’t voice any questions of the meaning behind his boyfriend’s words and chooses to sit quietly in his spot.

Mark has a new found appreciation for him.

“Wait, what do you mean, ‘on board’?” Jackson asks in air quotes, a dumbfounded look painted across his chiseled features. He gestures frantically towards his best friend and co, arms flailing to and fro before garbling random vowels that Mark assumes are suppose to be words. Until he stops abruptly. “Hold on, you just called him ‘babe.’ Are you guys together?!”

“Yeah,” BamBam states, as if it was common knowledge amongst their group of friends. Which it wasn’t. “Obviously.”

Uh-oh, he was in for it now.

“Don’t ‘yeah, obviously’ me, when the hell did this happen?! I demand to know!” The umber haired man exclaims, standing from his seat. Jinyoung struggles to keep his partner still, yanking at the hem of Jackson’s black fitted tank top to catch his attention.

“Jackson, sit down. You’re causing a scene.”

“But Jinyoung-baby, how could they not tell us? As Mark’s best friend and wingman, I have the right to know!”

“How can you be his wingman if you didn’t even know he was in a relationship in the first place.” He shrugs, face neutral and passive as the shorter man theatrically gasps at his treachery whilst clutching at his board chest.

“The betrayal! My heart can’t take the disloyalty you have just committed! Baby, you’ve taken my heart and torn it to pieces. What do you have to say for yourself?”

His dramatics are met with an unimpressed, blank gaze.

“And you!” He points, directing his attention to Mark, disbelief evident in his voice. “How could you not tell me? Does the word, ‘best friend,’ mean nothing to you?”

“That’s two words, Jackson.”

“Shush, Jinyoung, that’s not important right now. You’re completely missing the point here!”

“They have their reasons, not everyone wants to publicly express their relationship like you do.” Jinyoung replies, completely unfazed as Jackson throws himself at him, clinging onto him like his life depended on it. A whine already formulating from his lips, going off about trust and honesty and how friends should be treated.

Jinyoung rolls his eyes, looking like he was ready to punt his Chinese boyfriend all the way back to Hong Kong. “If they wanted their relationship known, they would’ve told us when they were ready.”

“But baby,” Jackson pouts, nuzzling his cheek against his boyfriend’s shoulder. “It’s not fair.”

“I’d say they’re pretty public with their relationship if they can get caught doing the deed in the bathroom.” The apparent ball of sunshine adds, his smile wide and innocent-like. “It was pretty raunchy if you ask me. Like straight out of some cheesy porno.”

The duality of Choi Youngjae, people. Let it be known.

“Youngjae!” The youngest of the friends screams, covering his red tipped ears. “I don’t want to hear this…I’m too innocent.”

Jinyoung’s face sours at the tallest’s last comment, knitting his brows together while he regards him narrowly from his seat. “Innocent? Don’t you think that’s quite a stretch?”

“I am innocent!” Yugyeom starts, offended by Jinyoung’s accusation as he crosses his arms over himself. Sulking. “Congratulations on becoming an item or whatever guys are, but I’m going to the restroom to cleanse my ears.”

“Be careful not to touch anything while you’re in there, I can’t promise you that it’s exactly clean.”

“That’s disgusting.” Jackson says as Yugyeom leaves their booth in long strides, before turning to Jaebum. “Please control your boyfriend, that child is now scarred for life.”

Jaebum shrug, obviously finding their conversation disinteresting. “What do you want me to do? He can do or say whatever he wants, it’s no chip off my shoulder.”

“Well, he is your boyfriend.”

“So?”

“Well,” Jinyoung interrupts, hold up his left hand. A gold band resting snuggly on his fourth finger. “We’re getting married.”

Their arguing ceases for moment before Jackson bursts out in a whine. “Jinyoung-baby, we were supposed to tell them together.”

“Oh well.” He shrugs, as if he hadn’t announced one of the most happiest news of their life without his fiancé. “Too late now.”

“Guys, look who I found on my way to the bathroom!” Yugyeom starts excitedly, his hand intertwined with a lanky, dark haired beauty. “I was literally just walking by before he-

“What did I miss?” He asks, staring at their blank faces and Jinyoung’s left hand that was still up in the air.

-

Amusement gleamed bright in his dark eyes as he watches his best friend pace around in the gaudily lit room, tightening and undoing the front of his black neck tie, only to retie it and start over again. If he stared hard enough, he was sure that the charcoal grey rug under the umber haired Chinese man would start to smoke from his relentless marathon back and forth across the moderately decorated room.

“Calm down, Jack. You’re gonna burn a trench into the rug if you keep pacing around like that.” He advises, a tease underlining his words. “It’ll be fine. You’ll do great.”

“Easy for you to say, you’re not the one getting married in about fifteen minutes.” Jackson mutters, continuing to tread to and fro across the room. “This is way more nerve wracking than I anticipated.”

He grabs his shoulder to stop him from another lap around the small room, gesturing for him to turn around and face him. “Of course it is. It’s a special, once in a lifetime day.”

Jackson eyes him closely as he fixes his tie for him, giving it a light pat when he was done. “It’s normal to be nervous, but you’re just too melodramatic as usual.”

“Hey!”

“Come on, tough guy. Time to get you married.”

-

If anybody ever asks, Mark definitely did not cry at the wedding.

Nor did he end up thoroughly embarrassing himself by grinding against BamBam in the middle of the dance floor. In front of everyone. Like his parents. And his sisters. And brother. Not to mention his boyfriend’s family.

Nope, definitely did not happen.

-

The shop was dimly lit with crystal chandeliers hanging lowly from its ceiling, giving the incased jewelry an expensive glow to them. A woman of her late twenties stood behind the casings, cheerfully parading a dozen of dazzling diamond encrusted earrings and necklaces to a happy young couple. She spoke in volumes rivalling his best friends own as she went over details about prices and magical deals that you can’t get anywhere else, with her current clients. Although Jackson’s voice wasn’t the least bit as irritating to listen to as hers; there was a nasally tone to her speech that made him wish she’d stop talking.

He stood to the side by himself, idly taking in the luxuriousness of his surroundings as Jackson frets over a wide collection of jewellery on display in front of him. Rings of various shapes and sizes gleamed from under the glass counter before the umber haired man, taunting him with their dazzle.

“Mark, get your ass over here.” His friend calls, dark eyes still trained onto the incased treasures. “I need your help, man.”

He lets out a breathy chuckle as he pushes himself off from the corner a glass casing, taking his time in his strides to Jackson. Honestly, he really had no idea why his melodramatic friend was fretting over something as simple as a ring.

“It’s just a ring, dude. Relax. He’s already got two.”

A look of utter disbelief paints its way across Jackson’s face, as if he was having a hard time believing the nonsense coming out of his best friend’s mouth.

“It’s for my sweet darling Jinyoung, Mark.” He replies with vigour, emphasizing on his husband of a total of one year’s name. “One year, man. This needs to be special, it’ll be our very first anniversary as a newly weds. Okay, not newly weds but you get what I mean. I want this to be special.”

“Jack, I’m pretty sure he’ll be happy with whatever you choose to get him. It’s the thought that counts, right?”

He leans into the glass casing of rings Jackson is hovering over, giving it a quick search before landing on a set of matching couple charms. They weren’t as extravagant as Jackson would probably want, but he figured his best friends husband would appreciate something a little less pricey and affordable. After all, the shorter Chinese man had the tendency to over exaggerate and over spend for the people he cared for.

“How about this?” He asks, tapping his index finger on the glass just above the charms. “I know you said you wanted to get a ring but don’t you think this would look great on that promise necklace you got him years ago?”

The umber haired man studies the small pieces of silver, taking in the intricate cravings twisting and swirling around the boards of the charm. “They’re lockets.”

He nods his head in response, awaiting the approval of his finding.

“They’re perfect.” Jackson smiles, and waves over the woman who had been enthusiastically promoting the young couple when they entered. “Excuse me, ma’am, I’d like to get these!”

The lady perks at the thought of selling another deal and joyfully skips over to them.

“Of course, how may I help you?”

He rolls his eyes at the excessive cheerfulness in her voice, prompting his friend to go into detail of pricing and whether he could engrave messages into the charms. Mark opts to admiring another section of the shop, stopping when he spies something that catches his eyes.

“I’ll take this.” He calls from over his shoulder.

-

“You ready?” Jackson asked as they walked along the burgundy carpeted floor towards the theatres entrance. Seemingly struggling to keep up with his friends longer anxious strides.

Everything around them was enormous in size and decorated in overly fancied cloths and furnishings. No detail was left out of place, it was like every part of the building was precise and impeccable; DAFA had really spared no expenses on the fees it took to build and design a place like this. No wonder BamBam always felt the need to up his wardrobe expenses whenever one his many performances were around the corner, this place was no joke when it came to being over the top.

“I don’t know man,” he replied, legs slowly turning to jelly with each step he took. “You think he’d like it? Maybe it’s too…I don’t know. What if he doesn’t like it, Jack? What do I do then?”

The other chuckles lightly beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “At this point, he’d absolutely love almost anything you do for him.” He assures, giving him a heavy good hearted pat in an attempt to loosen the tension in his friends body. “Relax, man. It’ll all work out, trust me.”

He lets out a stressed sigh as they reach the theatres finely polished doors, feeling the weight of pressure of what he was about to do. Every muscle in his body trembles uneasily as he tries to soothe his troubled thoughts away.

It’ll all work out, so don’t worry. It’ll all work out, Mark.

“I hope so.” He breathes, heart beating rapidly as it hammers itself against his rib cage.

The building itself was fashioned to look refined and expensive; so upon entering its theatre, he expected nothing less than big, bold, and gold. Which, it was. The theatre reminded him of the ones he and BamBam would see on the screen of some awards show that happen to appear on his dorm TV when they cuddle within the comforts of his room. He couldn’t help but feel a bit more than scruffy in his washed out blue jeans, baggy black moth bitten t-shirt, and a well worn much too large grey sweater hanging off his shoulder next to the elegant and richly designed seats donned in ruby red material and golden thread.

His stomach twists in tangled knots as his anxiety swelled. The dark box resting in his pocket starting weigh more and more.

-

He holds his hands, grazing his thumbs over his knuckles as takes a deep breath. Steadying himself.

“I know this is probably really fucking cheesy and cliché, and it sounds like it, but I am so in love with you Kunpimook Bhuwakul.” He begins as his hands frantically search the pockets of his pants, his lips tremble at the unfamiliar pronunciation of his partners given name. Where the hell was that damn box? “I hope I said that right, did I say that right? I know how much you hate it when people say your name wrong. It’s why you’ve got everyone calling you by your stage name. Everyone except for Lisa, of course. Including me.”

Oh god, he was rambling like an idiot. Someone stop him, please.

His boyfriend tilts his head in puzzlement, knitting fine brows together while he gazed at him questionably.

“Okay.”

Finally grasping onto the small velvety texture of the square box that he finds in his back pocket, he mentally kicks himself for the disconnection of his brain to mouth function blabbering away in front of everyone. Way to state the obvious, Mark.

He gives a light cough, clearing his throat before starting again. This time, the box firmly in hand. “I’m getting off topic. What I’m trying to say is, we’ve been together for a couple years now and I know things started out a bit rocky in the beginning of our relationship. We’ve had to face a lot of hardships in our time together and fought tooth and nail to keep it that way. There’s not a lot of people in my lifetime that has cared and loved the way you do, so wholeheartedly and unrestrained that most of the time you seem all too good for me.

“Again, what I’m trying to say is,” he takes out the small box from his pocket, hands trembling as he opens it to reveal a small simple golden diamond ring. It wasn’t anything bold or high end but it spoke for itself as he knelt down onto one knee. “Will you marry me BamBam?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I was think of making a blog or something where readers can ask questions about my writing, myself, or personal head cannons. What do you all think? Should I do it? Would you guys be interested in something like that?
> 
> I’m also working on a Jae2 oneshot and don’t know if I should post it or update PYJ first.
> 
> Leave your thoughts in the comments!
> 
> Btw: thank you for reading this fic. I appreciate all the support and encouragement I get from you readers. Whether a it’s leaving a kudo or comment, thank you.

**Author's Note:**

> This will be a two-shot btw.
> 
> Comments and feedback are welcomed ;)


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